1. |
Lowlife
03:29
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I don’t understand how to do this. The forest has eaten the trees. I feel like I’m barely remaining upright, but there aren’t any scrapes on my knees. There’s nothing for me to hold onto; I’m plateaued by the land and the sun. The horizon is motionless, static, and barren, no matter how far that I run.
I have lost the feeling of breathing out.
Hit me with something, I swear it’s okay, just make sure that it’s hard and it hurts. Don’t resist or pull back when you swing and attack – it’ll prove that my body still works. I’ve got reasons to feel the warm rush of the blood when it’s pulsating out of my face, and right now I need proof that my mind and my body are standing together in place.
Cause I’m not so well-adjusted, and I blame it on myself. And I feel so disappointed cause I blame it on myself. And I know that I could be a better friend if I take it on myself. And I know the only way that this will end is by improving myself.
And now that the past is behind me, all that's left is for me to decide. But I don't know if I am prepared to remove what remains of the last of my pride. But the only alternative's living in hubris and arrogant stubborn denial, and when your behaviour excludes don't expect to be invited back for a while.
I'm selfish without being selfless; I'm too careful of those I give care. I'm an arrogant waste with a two-sided face and I'm sick of refusing repair.
Now is the moment to scream that I’m going to change.
Cause I can afford my car, and I can afford my rent, but I can’t afford the wasted fucking years that I have spent alone at home, mourning a meaning that I’ve never had.
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2. |
Fell Asleep at the Phone
02:23
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I fell asleep at the phone while it was waiting to ring. I fell asleep at the phone, but didn't hear anything. And I thought that when I heard it it would help with everything, but when I fell asleep at the phone I didn't hear anything.
Ring.
I’m staring up at the phone while it is waiting to ring. It’s looking back in my eyes, but doesn’t say anything. So I pace around the room while every thought is all-consumed by every feeling – melted, twisted, rendered – that I'm carrying.
Ring.
You said that you’d call after five, but in half that time a constant anxiety arrived, so I sat and I waited to listen while zaps from my brain melted my nervous system. I sat down for what, a minute or so? Just tried to relax, make my breathing real slow, but now all the light’s disappeared from the sky and I, and I –
I feel it coming through, but nothing comes at all.
I know it’s hurting me, but I just can’t control myself.
Ring.
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3. |
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The problem with us is the values we grow in our bodies are rarely bifocal. Our EQ extends to our family and friends and the shit we see smeared on our socials. We're raised to assume that right out of the womb there are things to which we are entitled, but when water is free you'll just drown in the sea if the thought of new learning is frightful.
By cutting all dissidents out you ensure that your thoughts echo back like they're haunted. You're not hearing crowds, it's only your voice just as loud reaffirming the answer you wanted. Confirm with confirmed all you like, but don't fill up your mind without space left for others to fill in, or in twenty years’ time you'll be feeling just fine saying "I'm right; it must be the children."
While you wait, the mistakes that I've made are the way that I know I have grown.
While you wait, you're doomed if the only opinion you need is your own.
Jimmy, you see - sit down, look at me - there's a problem and you are no help. You never related to people you hate, now you're full-up and full of yourself. If they're just as anti- the thought of considering others as you and your fairweather friends, by closing your eyes all you're doing is widening divides; you're just making an "other" of them.
Why do people want to call me out?
Well, it can't be the things that you say, or the things that you do.
Why won't they accept what I'm about?
The only one here with control of your actions is you.
While you wait, admitting you're wrong isn't easy but neither's the truth.
While you wait, no matter your age nor your youth.
Remember that if you've never let yourself be vulnerable with others, you'll never find you're honest with yourself.
But it's not the end - it's never too late to accept that you've got to be better than this. Your ignorant bliss is a mask you are sweating against out of fear of reflecting at last, when it's only keeping you stuck in the past.
Accept without change that improvement is dead, and that if you build castles of sand round your head, you'll disappear in your quilt while you smother your guilt, and believe you know better than everyone else on the earth.
Yeah, you won't get the things you expect, you'll get what you deserve.
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4. |
Monty Hall
02:54
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I want to take you to my home. I want to spend more time alone. I want to know that I want something different. I want to be one of the guys. I want to leave; I want to cry. I want to know why I feel so indignant.
The choices that I make are nothing. The difference must add up to something. I want to be what I am judging.
I'm bouncing off the walls between my head, my heart. I need, I want. My brain, my blood. But I'm not from there. My head, my heart. I need, I want. My brain, my blood. But I'm not from there.
I want a shot at something new. I want to get away from you. I want to cut you off and go to pieces. I want to drift out of my lane. I want a scalpel in my brain. I want resilience that never decreases.
The choices that I make are nothing. The difference must add up to something. Diverting paths are too confronting. I thought that it would cripple me, but I'm still here.
My head, my heart. I need, I want to stop, and start; my head, my heart.
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5. |
Charcoal
04:24
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Well I've been feeling vacant. I've been feeling totally unimportant, unrequired, anti-productivity. I'm tired and I'm aching, everything's the same to me. Just the pilot of a weary, brittle human effigy.
I've been an ember, I've been fire that burns your eyes, but I'm struggling to remember how I made myself ignite. And I've fooled myself that fury is still raging inside me, when I'm a burnt-out husk, a fraction of the man I used to be.
And lately, I've been reassuring everyone I know that despite the things they've seen that I am still here in control. I'm so well-rehearsed when all the words come crawling out my mouth; telling you I'm fine is really all I know.
I've been an ember, I've been fire that burns your eyes, but I'm struggling to remember how I made myself ignite. And I've fooled myself that fury is still raging inside me, when I'm a burnt-out husk, a fraction of the man I used to be.
This whole time I thought I was something different, something that justified a lack of effort. A cut above, a finer grade; a plant that waters itself. And now that I'm wilted and rotten, I'm finally self-aware enough to realise that I have built up nothing with my hands.
I know that my light is running out. I know that I’ve watched myself burn down.
I'm so unsustainable - I'm charcoal, I'm a handful. I am brittle, burning, breaking down, I'm breaking, hear me call it out.
I've been an ember, I've been fire that burns your eyes, but I'm struggling to remember how I made myself ignite. And I've fooled myself that fury is still raging inside me, when I'm a burnt-out husk, a fraction of the ones I've used, the ones so close to me.
And I get it.
And I get it.
And I get it.
And I get it.
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